


Light Speed

by fascinationex



Series: bleach works by fascinationex [10]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - Star Trek Fusion, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-04-06 21:07:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14065602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fascinationex/pseuds/fascinationex
Summary: The alert comes when Tesla’s supposed to be winding down, but it’s an amber alert and he’s on call. He tosses down his tablet and pulls on his boots.A very short piece of a star trek fusion au.





	Light Speed

The alert comes when Tesla’s supposed to be winding down, but it’s an amber alert and he’s on call. He tosses down his tablet and pulls on his boots. Tesla’s halfway to his station – security #16, the gun deck – when the ship’s soothing voice calls him to the bridge.

He hesitates.

He’d be ashamed of that, but,  _well_.

The bridge is probably the least inviting part of the ship.

It’s well-lit, every surface battered but solid, the hum of mechanics a comforting buzz in his bones, but the personnel set Tesla’s teeth on edge.

The turbolift opens to a blast of guitar.

Ensigns Nakeem Grindina and Yylfordt Granz are both mostly in uniform today, which is an odd surprise, although Yylfordt’s sleek alligator skin boots are leaving streaks on the controls while he texts somebody on his comm and Nakeem is wrapped in an enormously long knit scarf that seems liable to drown him.

Lieutenant Grimmjow Jaegerjacquez hasn’t even tried to put his uniform on – presumably every single person on the ship will just mysteriously know him on sight when he gives orders. He is sitting on his station rather than at it, cross-legged and fiddling with a tablet and wearing jeans and a sloppy dress shirt over a wifebeater.

They are all ludicrously at odds with the short, starched figure of Lieutenant Commander Ulquiorra Cifer at the science station. Cifer wears his uniform like most people wear their hair. Tesla is not completely certain he’s ever seen Cifer out of uniform.

Just… Vulcans, you know? 

The guitar is playing from the ship’s speakers, which is certainly against some kind of regulation. Tesla tunes out at a roar of ‘hey, you’re crazy, bitch,’ and tries to ignore the absent bobbing of Grimmjow’s head.

“Er… Captain?” he says, announcing himself over the sound of hard rock.

“Evening, Lindocruz!” Acting Captain Lilynette crows, spinning in her fancy captain’s chair to face him. Her posture is relaxed, her skinny legs crossed at the knee. Whatever signified the amber alert, it isn’t bothering her much.

Or, possibly, an amber alert situation is her idea of a good night out. 

Either way, her presence means Starrk hasn’t shown up to his shift yet. Tesla glances surreptitiously at the viewscreen, notably the clock in its corner. He’s an hour late by ship’s time. He  _lives on_ the ship. How does… ?

 _But that’s not my business_ , Tesla reminds himself.

“Sir,” he says. He is thankful that the tattoo on his face, the eye patch and his natural reserve make it so much harder for most people to read his expression. 

“Fleet HQ has apprised us of a distress call in this quadrant,” she says, buffing her nails on her shirt, which looks to Tesla’s eyes a lot like a sports bra, or perhaps just an abbreviated midriff top. Somebody has taken the time to embroider the captain’s stripes on it, however. “At warp five, we’ll be in the vicinity within -” she glances toward Ulquiorra Cifer.

“Fifteen minutes, thirty two seconds,” supplies the Lieutenant Commander precisely. His face reveals nothing, but Tesla thinks his body language is stiffer than usual. He is, Tesla thinks, more bothered by the alert than she is. Wouldn’t be difficult. 

She nods. “- Sixteen minutes. Preliminary scans say there are still survivors, but the environmental support’s dropping out swiftly. They have about twenty minutes, if they’re careful. You and Cifer will need to get the survivors brought aboard the Iconoclast for medical assistance. Questions?”

“They can’t be beamed in?” Tesla asks immediately.

“No,” says Ulquiorra, glancing down at the screen at his station. “The warp core of their ship is unstable, and becoming less so by the minute. Any attempts to beam up the survivors will be…” he pauses, searching for a word. Finally, he settles on a very understated, “inadvisable.”

“Space jump?” says Tesla, suddenly understanding his discomfort.

“Yes,” says Ulquiorra. “Life sign scans indicate two presences,” he adds.

Only two, Tesla thinks, frowning, but Lilynette says, “Dismissed!” and waves one hand imperiously, kicking her legs and spinning her chair back around.

The doors of the turbolift swish closed, and the silence is deafening.

Tesla exhales.

Ulquiorra says nothing.

**Author's Note:**

> One day maybe I'll write more silly star trek fusion au. I like the idea of the yammy & ulquiorra klingon-vulcan friendship tbh?
> 
> Anyway, if you liked something as always feel free to let me know in a comment! :)


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